The Art of Bloodplay
by Halia Stone
Summary: A bottle of blood can do wonders for a hybrid and his vampire pet.


A cold chill swept through the spacious room and Damon shivered, having nothing to shield himself with. The most warmth he was getting was from his wrists and the chains shackled there. His upper body had been left to suffer the torment of being in a drafty basement for god knows how many days now.

He could remember perfectly why he was down here in the first place; one simple reason. Klaus wanted to play. Although his idea of 'playing' was shackling him to a ceiling and slicing his chest open repeatedly, the cuts from which were slowly and shallowly healing due to his lack of blood.

_Blood_. The word echoed silently in his head. He had no idea when he was going to get any, since Klaus often liked to wait until he was half-dessicated to give him some, but he was starting to feel weak - headache like a rock concert was going on in his head and a dry, cracking throat - and being almost five hundred and twenty years old, he didn't like the feeling.

Damon swallowed reflexively, but the small action did nothing productive except aggravate his thirst further. He wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into an unwillingly - the compliant ones made it boring - victim's neck and feel their blood running down his throat and filling him to the brim with power. The last time feeding had had such an effect on him was his very first feed. It was a sensation and state of himself he would never forget.

But he could also remember the night when Klaus had found him, intent on turning him into a killer. It had been five hundred years ago in Florence, Italy, around the time of the Italian Renaissance.

Damon had left a party his father had hosted that night, after deciding he had had enough of his brother flaunting the fact that Katherine had asked _him_ to escort her to the dance in his face. He had loved her and it wasn't enough for her, so she went for his brother, like everyone did.

He had been trudging home in about a feet of snow when a man had approached him. From the look in his eyes and the words that were spoken, Damon knew he wasn't going to let him go without a fight. He had ran, but it hadn't been enough. He had been roughly pinned up against an alleyway's dark wall and force-fed the man's blood - that he had found surprisingly delicious even in his frightened and confused state - until he whispered a shallow apology and snapped his neck.

He had woken up a few hours later in a little shack in the woods and the man who had introduced himself as Klaus, had explained to him that he had to feed on human blood to complete the change.

At first, Damon had vehemently refused. His first mistake of many during his five hundred years with Klaus. He never liked to be told 'No' and Damon had seen the first glimpse of his violent temper flash in his eyes, before he had calmly brought a young girl into the room and slit the side of her neck open, exposing Damon to the thing he hadn't even realised he had been craving.

The rest was history and from that moment on, Damon had never left Klaus' side, no matter how much he wanted to run, he couldn't. He had nowhere to go _to_, no family to see since his brother Stefan was long dead, his father was rotting in Hell and his mother, bless her, had died giving birth to Stefan. At times, he felt like one of the coffin's Klaus was carrying around whenever they relocated somewhere. He didn't want to know what was in them, and he had never asked.

The basement door creaked open and flooded the stairs with a path of light - how ironic, Damon felt like snorting - before it was closed again and footsteps where heard. Damon prayed it wasn't one of Klaus' blood whores from the never-ending stream of them that seemed to be slithering about the place. One had found him a few days ago while she was getting wine and she just laughed at him. He had managed to scare her off though, luckily.

Damon tensed as the footsteps got closer, his weakened state proving that it was nearly impossible to see anything, but relaxed as he felt a warm, familiar hand on his shoulder, able to feel the body heat radiating onto his back.

"Don't fret precious, I'm here," Klaus cooed softly in his ear, making Damon shudder as his body registered his Sire's arrival. "I'll always be here, you know that," he murmured quietly, stroking the side of his neck while nuzzling the other. Damon bit his lip and briefly closed his eyes as Klaus licked a short trail up his neck, making a soft noise of contentment, before pulling away.

He walked into Damon's line of vision and the younger vampire watched him warily, focusing on his hands that were hidden behind his back before he placed something in his back pocket, shielding it from him. He wasn't in good enough condition if Klaus wanted to slice him open and play - he still hadn't recovered properly from the last time - since he would pass out and get punished afterwards. Although he didn't think Klaus did. He would have seen the knife by now.

"What's that?" Damon asked apprehensively, breaking the silence between them. Klaus turned slowly and locked his eyes with Damon's stomach knotted up. _He wasn't supposed to speak unless directly addressed or told otherwise._

The slap didn't come. Instead Klaus' lips turned into a twisted smile that Damon decided was more terrifying. "And here I thought you were learning to behave and follow the rules," he chuckled softly.

Damon shook his head. "Never," he said without thinking, becoming even more surprised as Klaus grinned wolfishly at him. Usually he would be slapping him so hard his jaw broke and tugging harshly on his hair while he growled words of dominance into his ear.

"Good," Klaus said in a chipper tone that really didn't suit him, a hidden agenda starting to appear in his eyes.

Damon became confused and regarded Klaus suspiciously. "But you _just_ said that-" he stopped talking the instant Klaus blurred towards him and stared at his lips with a lust-filled gaze.

"I like keeping you quiet," he murmured, inching closer and closer to Damon's mouth, making his breath hitch in his throat while he debated to shift forwards slightly to gain the friction he desperately needed. "_My_ way," he whispered forcefully, punctuating his words by capturing Damon's lips in a passionate and languid kiss.

Damon moaned almost automatically and his eyes drifted closed as Klaus' tongue pushed its way into his mouth, claiming what was rightfully his, threading a hand into his hair. He had forgotten what it was like to kiss Klaus, but now he could, he couldn't get enough of the unique taste he was currently being drugged into oblivion with. Like blood mixed with liquid ecstasy.

Klaus pulled away abruptly and Damon moaned in disappointment. Klaus smiled pleasantly and dipped his head down towards Damon's neck, brushing his lips ever so lightly up and over the expanse of flesh, barely making contact. He knew what Klaus was doing; he wanted him to beg like a needy little slut and it was making him a pile of contradictions. He didn't want to beg Klaus, but without doing so, Klaus wouldn't kiss him.

Swallowing his pride, Damon threw his head back in abandon. "Klaus, stop teasing," he panted breathlessly, clenching his fists as Klaus curtly nipped at his neck once with his human teeth.

"I will kiss you, Damon," Klaus whispered in his ear, lips grazing it. He pulled back so Damon could see his face and smiled smugly. "But you know what you have to do," he said in the dominant tone he was more used to. And there it was, the hidden agenda, the controlling beast within the beast.

Damon locked eyes with Klaus and he became increasingly annoyed with the smile on his face that could only be taken off by one thing. "Please, Klaus..." his breath trailed off as his hunger got the best of him, clotting up his throat once more.

"Yes, Damon?" he responded with a coy smile.

Damon hung his head, not caring if Klaus viewed it as insolence, and muttered pleadingly, "_Please, _kiss me."

Begging made his stomach churn, especially since he had made it very clear to his enemies that he _did not submit_, but he was Klaus' bitch and he had been for the past five hundred years, so he was just going to have to accept it and be a good boy if he expected to get things from Klaus. And a part of him, a dark part of him that prevented him from staking himself or walking outside into the sun when he awoke to his new life, loved it. Loved being dominated, and sometimes humiliated, by the hybrid everyone told bed time stories about.

He felt Klaus' hand take a gentle, but firm hold of his chin, and lift it up to meet his eyes, which were glowering with unreserved smugness. "You cave _far_ too quickly, love," Klaus murmured almost sympathetically, stroking his thumb along his jaw line.

He whimpered needily from the minimal contact, regretting it the second he did. Was there no end to his contradictions? "Please..."

"Hush," Klaus whispered softly, briefly pressing the tip of his finger over Damon's lips, staring at them like he was shortly about to devour them.

Damon was caught off guard with the kiss. This time it seemed desperate and animalistic; teeth clashed and Klaus' tongue spiralled into the heat of Damon's mouth, reclaiming what he had been away from for a few days.

"I have something for you," Klaus said against his lips with a crafty smile, stepping back enough to reveal the hidden object that was in his back pocket. He smirked as Damon's eyes immediately darted towards the bottle of blood and his nostrils flared. He put the bottle on the small table and Damon fought to stay still.

The scent of the blood was relentlessly attacking his senses and driving him insane, no matter how weak they were. His throat was on fire and he felt desperate enough to break the chains around his wrists and leap at Klaus and rip the bottle from his hand and down it in one go, but he refused to move a muscle. Even if by some miracle he _did_ break free and he _did_ manage to overpower an a thousand year old hybrid, the punishment afterwards just wouldn't be worth it and he barely handled it the last time.

"You can speak, Damon," he reassured him, as if he actually missed the sound of his voice. "What do you think I'm going to do to you?" he asked, although it was clear he wasn't expecting an answer. "You're already chained up... not going anywhere," he chuckled knowingly, trailing his eyes up to the glinting shackles binding his wrists.

"Oh I don't know, maybe bleed me out again?" Damon bit out sarcastically, his jab at Klaus successfully making the situation much more exhilarating.

"Hmm, spitfire..." Klaus murmured softly as he trailed his fingers across Damon's bare shoulder blades and Damon pictured him smirking when he shivered from the gentle contact.

He froze as he was suddenly blinded as Klaus tied soft black fabric across his eyes. His heart started beating faster; Klaus had _never_ blindfolded him once. Gagged and tied up, but never blindfolded. He usually liked to watch him squirm and be forced to look at him at the same time, or when he wasn't playing rough, he had admitted he liked his 'gorgeous blue eyes'. This time was going to be _very _different.

"_Klaus..._" he protested in exasperation, struggling to free his hands, but to no avail. He stilled when he felt Klaus' arm wrap almost reassuringly around his shoulders and his chest press against his.

"Shhh." He pressed his finger to his lips once more, seemingly with an air of urgency. "It's necessary this time," he said reassuringly, as if it would get rid of the nerves squirming in Damon's stomach. If anything, they got worse.

"That's what you say every time I'm hanging from the ceiling," he retorted, the latter somehow being easier because he couldn't see Klaus' face become devious or twist in anger, but paradoxically, that was one of the more nerve-wracking things about the whole prospect.

Tingles suddenly formed along Damon's skin where Klaus' fingers were trailing, and then began stroking. Damon bit his lip and fought to keep still, but he couldn't help the shiver that coursed through him, making Klaus chuckle in delight.

"It's exhilarating isn't it Damon?" Klaus breathed with excitement, as if he was actually inside Damon's head. "Having a sense taken away from you so it amplifies all your others," he went on, walking his fingers across his prominent abdominal muscles. "And _every, single_ thing you feel," he enunciated in a way that made Damon shudder.

His fingers trailed across the waistband of Damon's jeans, unzipping them and swiftly pulling them off, exposing him to the cold air and Klaus' lustful gaze that was burning into his skin. He moaned just from the _thought _of Klaus' seduction, glad he couldn't see the blush that was creeping up his cheeks.

"Like this," Klaus whispered directly in his ear.

Damon gasped and his eyes shot open underneath the blindfold as he felt Klaus' hands on his chest, warm and sticky. He felt his own blood rush southwards as Klaus' fingers brushed lightly over his nipples and he realised exactly what Klaus had brought the bottle of blood down for.

Klaus' hand swiped over his mouth, thickly coating his lips and Damon made to open his mouth and lick it off, but stopped short when he heard Klaus' warning growl and his clean hand clamped down on his hair.

"Don't you dare," he hissed in his ear, twisting the black mass hard and making him groan.

Damon stilled and closed his mouth almost automatically. He could picture Klaus smirking at his little pet, before he went back to painting his chest with the blood, making sure his nipples were evenly coated before licking them clean, sucking one briefly into his mouth.

He whimpered as Klaus' hands began coating the insides of his thighs, purposely brushing his fingers against his erection, making him buck up sharply. Klaus' other hand held him still while he smothered Damon's belly with the blood.

A scream of pure shock and pleasure flew out of his mouth as Klaus suddenly splashed what felt like the remaining blood onto the apex of his thighs, making his hips arch up. He gritted his teeth as he began to throb _hard_ between his legs.

Klaus lightly peppered kisses across his chest and up his neck, making him gasp in surprise and turn his head away, but Klaus relentlessly chased him. "Scream for me Damon," he ordered as he began kissing his way down Damon's bare body, flicking his tongue out occasionally to lick off the blood, and his fists clenched tightly above his head.

He moaned as Klaus began licking the insides of his thighs clean, fingers curling around them to hold him still as he squirmed and his mouth dropped open. This was the most intense and intimate they had been since the night Damon had made his first kill and come home covered in blood.

He screamed suddenly as Klaus took him all the way into his mouth, wishing that his hands were free to tangle into his hair as he started sucking him clean, rolling his tongue around the tip. He grimaced and clenched his fists until his hands were bleeding, but he couldn't stop the onslaught of soft moans that spilled from his mouth.

Klaus had complete control over when he would climax, and Damon knew that he could stop any second just to assert more dominance and make him beg for it. But judging by the smirk he could feel on Klaus' lips, he wasn't going to and was _relishing _in the fact that he'd made a moaning, writhing mass out of him in less than a minute.

His climax hit him hard; fast and unexpected, making him moan loudly. Klaus swallowed all he gave and he felt what little energy he had left drain out of him. Klaus pulled away from him and kissed his thighs, cleaning them off too, making Damon tremble from the aftershock.

Damon blinked quickly and refocused his eyes as Klaus ripped the blindfold off his eyes, greeting him with a pleased smile, stroking his cheek as he shallowly breathed air back into his lungs.

"Good boy," he purred, kissing his bloodied lips, flicking his tongue out to steal the blood Damon was desperately craving. He always did it, but in the end he always gave him what he needed. Klaus wanted dominance over him, but he would never let him fully dessicate.

"Please..." he whispered, his throat drying up at the thought that Klaus actually would leave him to dessicate, just so he could have some more fun tomorrow.

"I knew there was _something_ I was forgetting," he said brightly, crumpling the empty bottle and discarding it. He picked up a small dagger that had been on the table since their last activities, and sliced the tip over his wrist, watching the skin burst open and bleed heavily. Damon held his breath, looking confused.

Klaus walked closer to him and saw the look on Damon's face. It was seldom that he directly fed him. "Think of it as a reward for being a good little boy," he whispered appraisingly, bringing the bleeding appendage up to Damon's mouth.

Damon hesitantly closed his mouth around the wound that was resting on his lips, waiting for it to be a trap, and began to suck gently. Klaus' eyes were piercing into his own, holding the back of his head so he was forced to look directly at him, pressing his wrist harder to Damon's mouth and tilting his head back to allow more to tip down his throat.

Damon followed his silent order and felt his senses returning thick and fast; the smell of Klaus' blood was becoming more and more enticing, and his eyes were becoming sharper, having nothing to focus on but Klaus' handsome face and his gaze that was making Damon nervous. Klaus seemed to radiate a calm menace as he breathed steadily, in sync with Damon's swallows.

He pulled his wrist away - all to soon for Damon - watching as it dripped a thick trail down Damon's chest, the rest staining his lips. "Much better," he said appraisingly, running a hand over Damon's now smooth skin. He wiped his own blood off Damon's lips, and his chest, and began to lick it off his fingers, smirking subtly when Damon shifted, averting his eyes.

Damon bit his lip as Klaus slowly and sensually cleaned his fingers, knowing that Klaus was playing on the fact that he thought watching Klaus feed was very erotic. Although luckily, it went both ways, so Damon had _some_ rare opportunities at teasing him.

Klaus let his clean index finger slide out of his mouth, watching Damon with a devious grin. "Let's get you down from there," he suggested with a gleam in his eyes. He had either noticed Damon's 'uncomfortable' shifting, or wanted to play elsewhere. "Go on up to bed?" he said with a soft smile that made Damon instantly wary, but the minute he heard the word 'bed' it went out of the window.

"Good," he said with relief, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. "I'm tired," he added. Sleeping standing up didn't exactly do him, or his arms any favours.

"When did I say we were going to sleep?" Klaus asked devilishly, reaching up to unlock the shackles.

* * *

**Haha, you probably all hate me for ending there, and for saying this - I'm NOT expanding this story and there's no point in adding it to your alerts (favourites are fine ;)) because I won't come back to it.**

**Ah, knew I was forgetting something. I hope you liked this story (honestly had no idea what I was thinking) and that you'll review. I hope I stayed in character too. ;)**


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